Why Danno Don't Date
by Ridley C. James
Summary: Place one divorced, devoted detective in a hospital waiting room, add a disaster prone partner, devious doctor, a dog and an impending date for one very interesting Saturday evening.


Why Danno Don't Date

By: Ridley C. James

Beta: Tidia

A/N: Yes, this should technically be the next chapter in What We Bury, but life and the muse are conspiring against me. My therapist side raised her analytical head, and after what I felt was a lack of Danno and McGarrett moments this past week in the episode, I needed to write something to remedy that and shake the feeling that things are somehow spiraling into the crapper, something that wasn't quite so dark as my current fic, though the reviews and kind alerts are a very nice cheering section. Really, I will get back on track with my chapter story, but I hope this suffices until I can manage the next update.

RCJ

"_Nothing defines humans better than their willingness to do irrational things in the pursuit of phenomenally unlikely payoffs. This is the principle behind lotteries, religion and dating." –Scott Adams_

Hospital emergency rooms are never fun places to hang out. They're always freezing, the coffee, if hot has a scorched flavor from hours in the pot, and the televisions are typically tuned to a news station delivering one horrific tragedy after another, as if enough bad news isn't crouched behind the swinging silver bay doors waiting to pounce on the unfortunate visitor. Never mind the torture devices they pass off as chairs, or the cloying smell of antiseptic that is meant to assure one of a sterile, safe environment. Throw in a full moon, a Saturday night, and all the factors above are compounded by the crazy swarms of people that will inevitably be found there. The only comfort Detective Daniel Williams found on this particularly insane Saturday night came in the form of patient advocate Dr. Ben Hoy.

Hoy had on occasion bravely attempted to run interference for harried physicians or surgeons when one or more of H50 had been whisked away to be treated behind closed doors. His years as a therapist and grief counselor more often than not wasted on those unwilling to be comforted by anything but the sight of a still breathing teammate. He never seemed offended, rather intrigued by their behavior. Danny seriously considered that the counselor had composed a secret file on his team's oddities and eccentricities with every intention of writing them up in some journal.

Tonight, Ben had his hands full and lacked the extreme patience he'd demonstrated in the past. His typical easy smile was forced, the crinkles around his understanding gray eyes more pronounced, making him look older than the fifty plus years Danny pegged him at when Kono whispered to him under her breath upon their first meeting that the 'Headshrinker was hot'. Danny didn't see it, but knew if Kono was here she'd be batting her eyes and hanging on every soft word Ben was saying. Considering the day's events, Danny was having a hard time following.

"I think my office will be much more comfortable, Detective." Ben placed his hand on Danny's shoulder, nudging him towards the room in question, which the detective was pretty certain served as a janitor's closet back in the day. It was a sad state that hospital staff not only recognized Danny, but felt a familiarity that allowed them to feel safe to take such liberties.

"You just want me to stop scaring all the nice people in the waiting room." Danny wasn't joking. He knew the fact his clothes were covered in varying degrees of gore was having an effect on the already anxious and injured. The fact he was still wearing his bullet proof vest, badge and gun prominently displayed probably wasn't helping matters. As a general rule, cops made people jumpy. "You've already got your work cut out for you, I guess."

"Saturday night is its own special beast. Pacing and highly animated muttering, although fascinating coping mechanisms if you weren't so heavily armed, are a bit of a distraction to my attempts to tame it." Ben was nice enough not to mention Danny's extremely loud verbal altercation with the head nurse who informed him for the tenth time he was not allowed back to the examination room, no matter if his partner was only half coherent when they brought him in and potentially dangerous to any misguided doctor who might try to render aid without Steve understanding the events that led to his admittance. There were drugs for that, she'd snapped with a curt nod.

"I'd be more than willing to wait in the examination room with McGarrett if you want to distract Atilla the Hun while I make a break for it."

"How about I offer you a cup of my famous coffee instead? Someone will come get you as soon as there is news on Commander McGarrett." Ben opened his door, revealing walls of ocean blue, a nice change from the stark white of admitting. There was a small desk and chair cramped in the corner, but it was the oversized couch with the fluffy cushions that drew Danny's attention. After a nine hour stakeout held hostage in the confines of the Camaro with his amped Navy SEAL partner, followed by one of their typical brushes with death, and subsequent ride in an overcrowded ambulance, the piece of furniture looked heavenly.

"Wow, you shrinks are serious about your couches. I would have thought you'd been good to get a love seat shoved in here."

"Tools of the trade." Ben moved to a low filing cabinet where a coffee maker that looked like it belonged on a Cuisinart show stage sat. He pulled a mug from behind a stack of books, blowing into the bottom before filling it with a dark brew that permeated the room with rich aroma. "You don't go anywhere without your gun, do you?"

Danny snorted, taking the cup offered to him. "Does this taste like charcoal?"

"Hazelnut."

"It'll work." Danny took a sip, nearly spitting out the flavored concoction when rhythmic thumping heralded a large black head with honey gold eyes from beneath Hoy's desk. He carefully placed the coffee mug on a table by the couch to free his hands in case of an attack. "What the hell is that?"

"That's a dog, Detective," Ben chuckled. "You don't have them in New Jersey?"

"Funny." Danny wiped the back of his hand over his mouth as the Labrador managed to wiggle its massive frame from the confines of the oak shelter. "What's the traveling germ circus doing in here?"

"Maslow is my partner, and I'll have you know that dogs as a rule are much cleaner and more sanitary than your typical four year old." The animal made it to Ben's side, rubbing its long body against the advocate's legs, tail swishing lazily as it regarded Danny with a wide yawn.

"And I thought having a SEAL was a screwy deal."

Ben laughed. "Maslow is a therapy dog. Like your atypical partner, he's highly trained, very intelligent and a great asset to me when going into special situations. Maslow is especially good for disarming frightened children and the elderly."

Danny knelt down, offering his outstretched hand to the dog who butted his nose under the proffered touch. "You're a little confused, Doc. Steve is great for _terrifying _small children and the elderly-like Cujo. He's more rabid Pit Bull than Lassie."

"Pit Bull Terriers actually make very good companion animals when given the proper socialization, care and…."

"Muzzle," Danny finished for the doctor with a smile. "At least that's been my experience with Steve."

"I was merely pointing out that we both have partners with unique skills." Ben rubbed the big dog's head, giving a soft command. "Shake."

Maslow lifted a big paw, putting it in Danny's upturned palm. "I can already tell he's more civilized and better trained than my partner. Not to mention he's got him topped in the grooming department."

"He's a good listener, too." Ben gestured to the couch. "In fact, he often fills in for me when I'm running behind with clients so feel free to take a load off and I'll leave you two to it."

"Seriously?" Danny stood, staring incredulously at the doctor, who had started for the door once more. "You're leaving me in the care of your dog? What kind of shrink are you?"

"A realistic one, Detective Williams. It's not like you're going to listen to anything _I've_ got to say, or talk to me about anything beyond superficial bull shit." Ben paused for a moment, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. "So, I'd rather not waste my time and my breath pinging away at walls reinforced with humor and self deflection. If you don't want to look at Maslow as a substitute for me, then think of him as a guard dog keeping you from under the nurses' feet. I'd like to get out of here at a decent hour considering its Saturday night and I have a date."

"A date?" Danny brought a hand to his head, a groan escaping with an explicative. "Fuck me."

"Is that really so hard to believe?" Ben frowned. "I'm old detective, not dead."

"No that's not it." Danny looked at his watch. "_I_ have a date-a date that's supposed to start in like two hours."

Ben turned towards the doorway again, as if he were torn between listening to Danny's predicament and dealing with the crowd of potential basket cases in the waiting room. "A lot could happen in two hours, Detective."

"That's exactly what I'm worried about." Danny slid his hands along the sides of his hair. He'd worked hard to get Karlie-with a K from Steve's favorite health food market's phone number. It wasn't like tall, long-legged redheads were falling at his feet these days, especially ones that taught yoga. "Things always happen around Steve McGarrett, and they are rarely good or convenient."

"I'm sure one of your team could be here to relieve you of your post by then."

Danny waved away the idea. Didn't miss the knowing look the doctor shot him. He donned a petulant glare of his own. "What?"

"I have found in my line of work, Detective that the things one really _wants_ to make happen, usually happen. Deliberate choices are the key."

"Are you insinuating that I intentionally chose to have a shootout, which culminated in my getting up close and personal with an exploding skull that then led to my partner being mowed down by a speeding getaway car over a nice dinner and a movie with an extremely beautiful woman?"

Hoy shrugged. "I'm just saying life is all about having priorities, what you extrapolate from that is relevant only to you."

"I have priorities!" Danny felt his blood pressure rising. Anybody who thought therapy was conducive to lowering stress had obviously never undergone a session with an actual therapist. Danny would just as soon give himself a lobotomy with a spoon.

"I have no doubts about that, only questions as to whether or not those priorities actually lend to the probability of you enjoying something as mundane as dating."

"I enjoy dating. I enjoy it very much."

Hoy seemed to see Danny's defense as a challenge worthy of wasting his precious time. He crossed his arms over his chest, head tilting slightly. "So you date on a regular basis then?"

"Yes." Danny believed 'regular' was a subjective term, but of course Hoy wasn't above making it clearly objective.

"And how would you define regular? Once a week? Once a month?"

"Don't you have real clients waiting for you?" Danny gestured to the door. He'd come here due to life and death circumstance, not to hash out his personal life with some quack who thought a dog was a sentient being capable of discourse was someone as complex as Danny. "I mean I'd hate to deprive some incredibly masochistic woman of your company this evening."

"I rest my case." Ben pointed to his dog, starting for the door once more. "Maslow, feel free to carry on in my absence."

Maslow whined, looking up at Danny, tail thumping once more.

"Don't give me that look, Babe. My partner has been flashing those pouty puppy eyes at me for two years. I'm immune."

The Labrador didn't seem deterred, bumping against Danny's legs as he made his way toward the beckoning couch where he sat with a longing glance at the furniture in question. Danny could see the well-staffed nurse's station from Hoy's open door. Nurse Atilla was still on sentry duty and the couch was a far better alternative to the hard plastic chairs. He sighed, turning and letting himself sink into the sofa figuring Hoy was correct and someone would come and get him if Steve regained consciousness with his usual vigor. He patted the spot beside him and Maslow was quick to accept the invitation, jumping up beside the detective, curling close to Danny with a contented huff.

"Your doctor friend has it all wrong you know." Danny let his hand come to rest on Maslow's head, fingers treading through the thick black fur as he let his mind rehash Hoy's accusations instead of any number of worst case scenarios concerning Steve. "I really do enjoy dating. Daniel Williams has a great appreciation for the fairer sex. The way they look, the way they make the smell of fruit sexy. I mean coconut and lemon really does nothing for me until I catch a whiff of them on a woman's hair, or on her skin. I even, on occasion enjoy the way they can bring the crazy."

Maslow's ears twitched and Danny took that for what could be doggy doubt. "It's true. I know how to woo. My mother raised me right. Unlike your species, a date with me isn't just about another fine tail. I can be very romantic-a good dinner, candlelight, some nice wine. As cliché as it sounds, and though I very much prefer the Jersey shore to the Pacific coast, I may even enjoy a little stroll on the beach in the moonlight, especially if it pads the odds that Barry White might be making an appearance later in the evening."

Maslow didn't seem the type to judge, so Danny continued. "It's just that there are factors against me. What factors you ask? Well, for one, I'm divorced."

Danny paused a beat to make his point even though he was pretty sure Maslow wasn't going to offer up any commentary on the revelation. "One would think that would make it more likely for me to be a success on the dating front, but sadly that is not the case my furry friend. To put it in doggy terms, I had a lot more bitches sniffing my butt when I was fitted with a collar and owner tags. Now that I'm pretty much a stray, there's not so many wanting to take me home to curl up in their bed."

Danny wasn't sure what it was about a wedding band that could draw women like flies, but he had his share of propositions throughout the years he was married to Rachel. Maybe it was some kind of signal that a guy was valuable, a hot commodity, like when Rachel casted a second glance to a certain purse when she caught sight of one of her friends happily flaunting it about town. Then, hell or high water, she had to have one of her own.

"I'm telling you Maslow, women might not have a problem with slipping on another girlfriend's favorite designer heels for one night of wild abandon, but they're not that big on bringing home the pair of broken in Converse that she's tossed to the curb when they've started rubbing her feet the wrong way."

Maslow seemed to buy into Danny's metaphorical musings about shoes and purses, or either he'd tired of the new and disturbing smells on the detective's clothes. He rested his head on Danny's leg, content to let his patient prattle on. Danny had to admit the doc might be onto something with the whole silent therapist as his bunched and knotted muscles began to loosen. He continued to run his fingers over Maslow's fur, scrunching deeper into the couch.

"Divorcee just doesn't have the same ring as husband. It comes with all kinds of baggage attached like alimony and child support, not to mention the fact that the guy in question has actually walked down the aisle with someone else, had every intention of spending the rest of his life with another woman who was irrevocably his first choice. Factor in a possible scenario that the guy has been gutted, fleeced for everything he owns and forced to move to a Pineapple-infested hell hole and there could be a teeny bit of apprehensiveness when it comes to matters of the heart."

Danny shifted, his vest riding up, gun digging into his side. He pulled the weapon from its holster and placed it on the table beside him before getting comfortable again. "I mean I don't know about dogs, but we humans like to think we can mate for life. My grandparents and folks are proof that it can work. My mom and old man have been together forty seven years, are still going strong. So I just assumed when I took the plunge with Rachel that it would be, well…forever."

Danny let his hands still on Maslow's head, the ridiculousness of hearing that word out loud catching him off guard. He took a breath, blowing it out slowly.

"We Williams don't give up, not without a hell of a fight, but the only problem was that after six years, Rachel just wasn't that interested in fighting anymore. She wanted to throw in the towel and there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it but let her go."

Some days Danny still felt like he was learning to do that. Rachel was so damn familiar to him in every way. Even now after years apart, he felt like he was still tied to her by tethers that had nothing to do with the child they shared.

Danny understood a lot of married men longed for the strange. It was the topic of many water cooler discussions in the bull pen when he was coming up through the ranks back in Jersey, but Danny had always found comfort in the fact he knew every curve of his wife's body. She was like a memorized treasure map, Danny alone privy to all the twists and turns, secret passages and potential pitfalls that made Rachel who she was. So what if the terrain was household, Danny knew exactly where X marked the spot and was the only one with the key to the treasure chest. That kind of knowledge had taken years, maybe his best years, and Danny wasn't completely sure he was willing to invest that kind of time in discovering someone new. He had never expected to be single and starting over at thirty-five. Dating was for the young and stupid.

Maslow nudged Danny with his cold nose, pulling him from his silent thoughts. The detective was pretty sure it was to demand the petting restart instead of a prompt for the conversation to pick up again but Danny continued with both.

"Right. So at least you're thinking I'm a good date. I like to think I'm a good date. But, I'm a detective. Trust me when I say that little title before my name is nothing like Ben Hoy's glowing label of 'doctor'. _Detective_ Daniel Williams doesn't' have the same allure when it comes to dating."

Maslow's tail swooshed against the buttery leather at the sound of his owner's name, his eyes going momentarily towards the door as if expecting the counselor to appear. Danny recaptured his attention with a soft chuckle.

"Don't get me wrong, some women think it's hot to date a cop, and I am not above playing that card on occasion. They have this whole 'hero' complex or some are into the uniform and the cuffs, but the fantasy always fades pretty quickly when they realize their superhero is actually a poorly paid public servant. Cops don't pull six figures and the prospect of five star dinners and exotic getaways are slim. Hell, these days, a thirty year mortgage is a stretch. Don't get me started on the late night hours, weekend work, and need I mention the nastier side of the business."

Danny picked at his shirt, cocking a brow at Maslow. "I'm pretty sure if I were to comb my hair right now we'd dislodge some bone fragments, find a few molars, maybe even some gray matter. If I hadn't insisted on coming with Steve, Mighty Max our maestro of all things morbid would have had my whole head, bagged, tagged and brought back to the lab with him for closer inspection. It's fairly certain I'll wake up screaming my partner's name a few nights this coming week, and even the most infatuated and starry-eyed of women tire quickly of that kind of post trauma drama fairly quickly."

It was bad enough to bring home the daily stress of the job, but to drag the scary bad guys and a deranged Navy SEAL into your bed was too much for any girl to take. Thoughts of Steve had Danny fixated on his watch again, wondering if he should go ahead, make the call to Karlie. Maslow must have sensed his tension because he whined, rolling over, offering up his underside as a distraction from Danny's worries.

"You're as bad as Grace. She manages to con me into rubbing her back whenever we're watching movies." Danny trailed a hand over the Lab's chest, showing some love to the finer fur covering his taught belly. He thought of his sweet little girl, how she could so easily wrap him around her finger by pulling out the same begging eyes that this Labrador and Steve McGarrett seemed to have in common. "My monkey is another reason dating isn't so easy."

Daniel Williams was above all else a father, a far more weighty title than that of detective. He might live and breathe being a cop, but Danny loved being Grace's dad. "My daughter comes first in my life. She always will. Seeing me with my adorable little girl might be a turn on to women at first, but that tends to wear off just like the shine of the badge fades when she realizes that she's not number one, no way, no how. It's been my experience that women want to be number one. And why shouldn't they? I mean that's what we all want, right? To be put first in someone's life-to be the center of their universe."

Maslow was either so removed from such human displays of selfishness or entirely consumed by the pleasure Danny was delivering that he didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter, but Danny in all his homo sapient grandeur understood that need very well. He realized it was one of the reasons Rachel and he weren't still together. She might have been more than willing to abdicate her position in Danny's heart to their beloved daughter, but had quickly grown tired of competing with his job for second place.

"So, Doctor Maslow, even though I would sincerely enjoy sharing what little free time I have with a beautiful woman, and would definitely embrace sharing my bed on a more 'regular' basis, the biggest share of my heart belongs to Grace."

Maslow wriggled, scooting his body higher up on the couch, twisting so that Danny would be sure to cover all the doggy erogenous zones. Danny rolled his eyes at the gratuitous display of rapture. "Seriously? This is some gig you've got going on here, you big goof."

The familiar nickname for Steve had a pang of worry lancing through Danny's chest, stealing some of the catharsis he'd managed in talking to Hoy's canine partner. His gaze zeroed in on the nurse's station, a longing to see his own partner threatening to send him on what would undoubtedly be another futile quest for answers. Maslow's throaty rumble of pleasure had him conceding to stay where he was although he couldn't quite keep his eyes from going to his watch. Standing up Karlie with a K was quickly becoming the least of his worries. Danny brought his free hand to his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with a heavy sigh.

"So, if I'm being completely honest here and I'm guessing that's the point of this whole therapy thing, it could be that Daniel Williams' alter ego of _Detective_ _Divorcee Dad _isn't the only reason I'm not into dating at the moment. I mean it could be possible that Grace, although the majority share holder does not unequivocally have dibs on all my heart."

Maslow lifted his head at the hint of confession, chocolate brown eyes locking with Danny's blue ones. Danny found himself slightly flabbergasted that the animal seemed totally focused on what he was about to say as if all his antics up to this point had been a well-planned strategy to lead Danny to this breakthrough moment, although Danny still had no real conscious insight as to what that might be.

"What? Stop looking at me like that." Danny found himself floundering under the scrutiny as Maslow actually rolled over and sat up, head tilting in almost comical fashion. "It's not like your species has the whole corner on the man's best friend thing. I happen to excel at it. Sometimes we people can actually be pretty loyal, even downright dedicated. "

Maslow whined, which Danny interpreted as doggy speak for 'go on'.

"The way I feel about Steven is not atypical. I mean partners are supposed to be close, you know. We watch each other's backs, depend on one another for survival on the job, and on occasion there may be call to grab a couple of beers after a shift if your buddy has had a bad week. It's a guy's duty."

Danny sat forward, running his hands along the sides of his hair to keep them from flailing about. All he needed was for Hoy to return and catch him engaging in an animated conversation with his dog-more fodder for the journal review. He cast a sideways glance to Maslow who seemed content for the moment to merely stare at him with those damn knowing eyes.

"Only bad day doesn't even begin to cover Steve's shitty luck, and how I react to it isn't all said and done in reverence to my job. He demands more time and attention than all my other partners combined, and that includes Theodore Murdock, who not only still lived in his mother's basement at the age of thirty-two, carried chocolate milk to work in his thermos each morning, but had a thing for the prostitutes that worked the south end. For the amount of time I spend having 'drown your sorrows' beers at Steve's place; I might as well have my own room there. It would take five of you and your buddy Hoy to even begin to unravel the emotional enigma that is Super SEAL."

Danny rubbed his eyes. "That doesn't even begin to touch on the physical manifestations of the bastard's damaged psyche. You of all dogs should get that, right? I don't have to be Freud to see that the man has self worth and survival guilt issues, not to mention suicidal tendencies coming out of his Aqua Man gills. Then there is his innate knack for not only getting me shot on a regular frequency, involved in daily high speed car chases, but kidnapped and held hostage at gunpoint by insane third strike felons with nothing to lose." Danny gestured wildly to his shirt. "Hence Rambo then having to display his amazing Navy marksmanship by taking out said felon before he can follow through on his threats to kill the haole cop. Steve finds ways to reenact similar scenarios on a far too frequent basis if you ask me. I bet your buddy Hoy could write an entire discourse on that alone."

Maslow moved forward, the press of his warm body against Danny's oddly comforting as he rested his head on the detective's shoulder.

"It's a full time job taking care of him, Maslow. SEAL's do _not_ make good pets, and don't let anyone tell you differently. Forget the picky food, bad temperament and hours upon hours of insane exercise they require, they're just too damn dangerous to let out in public without one hell of a short leash." Danny sighed, meeting the dog's empathetic gaze. "But what's a guy to do? I took on the responsibility of taking care of him when I agreed to be his partner, and just like with marriage I take that shit serious-we're talking death do us part kind of commitment . Besides, it's not like he's a cute puppy that I can convince someone else to take off my hands. Hell, I can barely trust Chin and Kono to take him out without incident. Imagine charging an innocent kid with strolling your mentally deranged Cocker Spaniel around the neighborhood. Sure he looks all warm and fuzzy, but one wrong move and at the best your dog walker's missing a few fingers, and at worst you're looking at a massive lawsuit. Returning him to the wilds of the Navy is out of the question now that he's lived with us normal human beings for so long. He'd never survive."

Danny took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he stared at his hands. "And for as much of a beast that he is, and for all my time that he requires, I'm not quite sure I'd be willing to give him up even if it meant getting to go on _regular _dates with long legged red heads named Karlie."

The warm lap of a tongue against his cheek had Danny turning towards the big black dog. "Okay, you're right. Maybe I was looking for sympathy, a little validation. So the last date I was on she said that I talked too much. _Me?_ Do I resemble that comment? You know what her evidence was? That I couldn't remember what she did for a living? Really, is that important?" Maslow stopped licking him. "You know how it is—you go on a date, then you go to a movie you don't want to see so that you can show you are an open, sensitive guy. But, I'm a guy. I don't want to see an indy movie or some romantic comedy. Unless there's a circus in town, you don't see dogs jumping through hoops to act like a yappy nuetered Poodle when they're really a big bad Doberman. Is it wrong to expect some of the same courtesy from my species?"

"Detective Williams?"

Nurse Atilla's voice had both Danny and Maslow looking her way. She stood in the doorway, hands planted firmly on her slim hips with a scowl on her face, foot tapping the floor impatiently. The sight of her was enough to have Maslow jumping from the couch, deserting their conversation and Danny for the refuge of Dr. Hoy's desk.

Danny watched the dog contort himself into a snakelike shape, black tail disappearing before he offered the nurse a dour frown. "You know you need to work on your bedside manner when you're attitude sends sweet friendly puppies scurrying away."

"Maslow is hiding because he knows that Dr. Hoy does not allow him on the leather couch." The Nurse narrowed her eyes at Danny. "That dog understands the importance of following procedures, and that there are consequences for breaking rules. He also has the good sense to not try my patience when I keep a rolled up newspaper behind my desk."

"Do I look like I'm trying your patience?" Danny waved a hand encompassing Ben's office, the mug of discarded coffee by his gun. "I'm taking Dr. Hoy up on his hospitality, staying out of the way just like you, in your not so hospitable or professional way, encouraged that I do."

"I'm referring to your partner, who is upsetting my wide-eyed, babes in the woods residents."

"Steve's awake?" Danny stood, reclaiming his gun which he slid into its holster before taking a step towards Atilla. "Is he alright?"

"What part of causing trouble did you not understand, Detective? I can't give you an accurate update on his condition due to the fact he's making treatment extremely difficult."

"Steve? Difficult?" Danny rolled his eyes. "Let me guess. Those magic drugs you were touting earlier aren't doing the trick and you need me to intervene?"

"Unless you'd like to send your new friend Maslow in to talk him down."

"Cute." Danny glared at the nurse as he moved past her on the way to the swinging bay doors that would lead him to Steve. "I bet I know who is _not_ in any big rush to get out of here for a hot date tonight."

"He's in Exam Room 4," Nurse Attilla called after him.

Danny waved away the woman's instruction, instead following the loud voices that were clearly audible once he neared the appropriate hallway.

"I want to know the fucking status on my team?"

"I told you Commander McGarrett, I'm not sure of the location of your team but you need to calm down…"

"What I need to do…"

"What you _need_ to do, Steven is to stop snapping at the people trying to help you and get back in bed." Danny moved around the curtain partition separating his partner from the other non-critical patients waiting for treatment. He shook his head at the sight of Steve shirtless, faced off against two petite women in scrubs sporting determined faces valiantly attempting to keep their half-naked patient cornered. He was a little annoyed that Steve hadn't warranted treatment by one of the physicians actually over thirty, but reminded himself of the crazy mess that had been the waiting room.

"Danny." Steve dropped his defensive posture, swaying slightly as he turned to look at the detective. "You're alright?"

"Better than you." Danny pointed to Steve's bloodied hand where he had no doubt taken it upon himself to remove his IV. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Mr. McGarrett came to doing our cursory examination," one of the doctors began to explain. She glared at Danny accusingly as if it were his fault, tucking a few strands of dark hair that had escaped her loose pony tail behind her ear with an exasperated sigh. "He insisted on getting up against our instructions to remain immobile."

"Don't feel bad, Doc. _Lt. Commander_ McGarrett has refused orders from much meaner and more menacing than you."

"I was coming to find you." Steve ignored the physician, instead giving Danny his Superman X-ray vision once over. "You're covered in blood, Danno?"

"Tends to happen when you are in close proximity with an exploding skull, Steven." Danny waved a hand in the air. "I hate to tell you, Babe, but wardrobe could be a problem with your new William Tell freak show. If I'm going to get a ruined shirt every time, I may reconsider my part as your wildly handsome assistant?"

"Shit." Steve brought his hand to the right side of his head, gingerly fingering the blood-crusted spot just above his ear. Danny watched as what little color his partner had retained seemed to drain from his face. "I didn't have a choice. He was going to pull the trigger, but then you and Miller both went down. I wasn't sure I'd made the shot- everything went black."

"Commander McGarrett you really should return to your bed." The blond doctor joined in with her dark haired counterpart, interrupting Steve and shooting Danny an insistent glance. "Nurse Aloi said you could help with that, Detective. We would rather not sedate him considering the trauma he sustained."

Danny kept his gaze on Steve, crossing the distance between them to take hold of Steve's arm not because the doctors were insisting but because he was afraid Steve's worry-fueled adrenaline that allowed him to be on his feet and as stubborn as ever was about to come to a spectacular end. "Your aim was true, Robin Hood. I'm fine." He guided Steve back to the bed. "Trust me when I say that watching you be mowed down by the speeding car shaved off more years of my life than your trusty marksmanship. Now will you please listen to the doctors before you get me sent to Nurse Aloi's desk, where I have it under good authority she keeps weapons of torture."

"A car hit me?" Steve had obviously not gathered all his wits but obediently let Danny help him get settled.

"Yes, when you stepped from cover to take the shot, you made yourself a perfect target for our other fleeing suspect." Danny sorted out the sheet, giving an exasperated eye roll as he waited for Steve to actually lie back. "Why do you think the doctors are afraid you might keel over? I mean lumps, bumps and hard knocks are all in a days work for Super SEAL, but this is a little excessive even for you, Steven."

"That explains why my head and leg hurts like a mother…" Steve conceded, and Danny wondered how bad the pain had to be if his partner was admitting to such human weakness.

"I'm sure one of these beautiful ladies can help you with that if you will stop undoing all their hard work and give them the 'I'm a six-year-old boy with ridiculously long eye lashes trapped in a grown man's body' instead of your 'I'm a raging lunatic willing and capable of tearing you limb from limb' face." Danny motioned to the trail of IV line, glancing to the closest resident, returning the favor of an expectant glare. "I promise he won't bite if you want to get some feel good juice flowing."

"Just like with the sedative, we don't want to give him any pain medication until we know more about his head injury." The dark haired intern looked at the computer in her hand. "He was unresponsive for twenty minutes. We were administering fluids to counter shock and get him stabilized for further testing."

"We've scheduled him for scans in Radiology," her blond co-worker added. "He's showing negative for rigidity, but his contusions and lacerations make internal bleeding a concern. Hair line fracture of the hip or femur is also a possibility."

"Wonderful." Danny took it upon himself to grab some gauze and cover the bleeding wound on his partner's hand when it seemed neither doctor was intent on doing so.

Steve hissed. "Where's Kono and Chin?"

Danny sighed, amazed at his partner's talent for compartmentalization, his ability to dismiss people he had no need for, focusing solely on whatever directive his one track mind locked on. "I left them cleaning up our mess, fearless leader. As the doctor pointed out, you weren't exactly with it when the ambulance came so I figured I better come with you just in case you woke up your usual maniac self."

"I'm not a maniac," Steve favored Danny with the 'why are you kicking me when I'm down' look. It would have given Grace and Maslow a run for their money in the pitiful department.

"Would you like your gloom and doom dueling physicians to chime in on that?" Danny arched a brow.

"I'm fine…" Steve started but Danny interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder.

"I thought we decided a long time ago that the partner in the hospital bed does not get to self diagnose or chime in on treatment." Danny softened his voice. "Seriously, Steven let them fix your IV so they can go check for broken bones and all that crap because we know with your luck something's going to be fucked up despite your knack for taking the walking wounded thing to stellar levels."

"We'll send in a nurse to take care of that." The brunette doctor shared a look with her partner before moving towards the door.

"A technician will be in soon to prep him to Radiology," the blond added, following after her fellow resident.

"Wow." Danny watched both of them scurry away. "You have probably successfully done what years of grueling medical school did not manage with those two driven Type-A personalities. They are now questioning their decision to join the medical profession and every subsequent decision they've made since. Maybe the university should hire you to play a patient in resident training scenarios."

When Steve didn't answer Danny leaned over the bed, favoring him with a concerned frown. "You okay, partner? How's the head and leg, really?"

"I've had worse." Steve blinked, staying awake an obviously more difficult task now that he knew his people were safe and accounted for.

"Considering what I know about your background, it's never comforting when you say that to me." Danny didn't like to think about the things Steve had endured, instead choosing to focus his attention on preventing further incidences. It was a thankless job but one Danny took seriously, as he had laid out in great detail to Maslow.

"I'll live." Steve forced a smile. "Is that better?"

"Tons." Danny took the only chair in the small area and pulled it close to Steve's bed. "I have the warm and fuzzies now."

"Good, then you know you can get out of here." Steve waved a hand to his head. "Unless you need more proof of the reinforced steel you're always bitching about."

"You're trying to run me off now? Driving away two trained care givers not enough of a challenge for you?"

Steve closed his eyes with a grimace, the hand not being held down by Danny moving to his head. "No need in both of us being here, partner."

"You say that as if the hospital is a bad place to be. I happen to love it here. The pudding cups are the best."

"Danny." Steve cracked one eye open, brows furrowing with more than just pain.

"Steven." Danny waved a hand in the air. "It's not like I have anything better to do on a Saturday night."

"I forgot," Steve smirked. "Danno don't date, at least not after that cute lawyer explained to you how bad you were at it."

"Shut up, please. I should have never shared that conversation with you." The unrelenting commentary and dating self help manuals that somehow found their way onto his desk along with a seven day free trial coupon for one of the many computer dating services much to the delight of Kono was the exact reason Danny had not shared his plans for another date with Steve.

"It'll get easier, Danno."

Danny snorted. "Like you're in any position to give advice."

"I date."

"Family Fridays at the Hilton with me and Gracie does not count, nor does grabbing a beer with Kamekona at the Hairy Dolphin."

Danny felt much better about his partner's condition when Steve managed a decent version of his classic annuerysm face. "I was talking about Catherine."

"Right. Catherine who is in port what, two three times a year and I'm not sure that a night of burning steaks on the beach and rolling around in the sand naked constitutes 'dating'?"

"It works for me, for Cat." Steve shrugged. "I don't see anything wrong with that."

"Which is why I'd like to pass on the name of a very good therapist to you, though I'm not sure Maslow is taking new patients at this time."

"I'm serious, Danny."

"Me too, Steven." Danny turned when the rattle of a cot preceded the appearance of a nurse and two techs. He patted Steve's arm. "Maybe I'll just make a personal introduction between you two before they spring you from the joint."

"I can't talk you into leaving?"

Danny moved just enough so the nurse could restart Steve's IV but that his partner could still keep eye contact. "Has that ever worked before?"

"I could order you?" Steve paid no attention to the orderly or the man searching for a vein in his unmarred hand.

"Good try, Babe." Danny waved to the machinery and people working around them. "But technically you're incapacitated, so as second in command I'm in charge."

Steve's mouth twitched. "So, I guess you'll be here when I get back?"

"It looks that way, yes." Danny couldn't help but to think about Dr. Hoy's words on a person's ability to prioritize and the affect the choices they made ultimately had on the life they would live. Maybe finding someone new wasn't so important because as much as Danny bitched, he liked his life as is. Danny had his job, his daughter, a supportive ohana in Kono and Chin, and a best friend that filled in most of the missing parts. "When you get back we'll talk about my brilliant idea."

"Do I even want to know?" Steve groaned, and Danny moved closer even though he was quite certain it was feigned dramatics instead of a reaction to physical pain.

"It's about Five-0." Danny watched the tech lift the rails of the bed, preparing Steve for transport. "The possibility of us maybe getting a new partner."

"Danny, Five-0 needs a new partner like television needs a new reality show."

"But you'll get to hand pick this guy; we'll go to one of the local shelters, then send him to your buddy Lt White for training." Danny had watched a television show once about the military rescuing dogs to train for a wide range of tasks. If any team could use a good body locating, drug-sniffing, bomb-searching, rescue dog it was Five-0. If their canine counterpart turned out to be an excellent listener like Maslow, even better. "I'm thinking a Pit Bull would fit in nicely."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head, Danno?" Steve frowned, ignoring the nurse who was explaining they were ready to go to Radiology.

"I'm good, Super SEAL." Danny squeezed Steve's shoulder, nodding to the nurse that he should carry on without waiting for Steve's acknowledgement. "I'll explain everything over pudding cups when you get back."

Danny watched his partner be rolled away, realizing that the assurance he'd spoken hadn't just been to ease Steve's mind. He _was_ good. So what if it had taken a close call, a devious therapist and a kooky canine conversation to realize it.

The detective glanced at his watch, estimating he had time to step outside make a quick phone call to Karlie with a K, swing by the gift shop for some doggy treats and a bag of Hazelnut coffee, before spending the rest of the evening arguing with his groggy doped up partner all the positive points of them getting a dog together. It wasn't exactly the Saturday night Danny had envisioned, but it was promising to shape into something far better. Danny couldn't help but to hope that maybe the intricate plan he'd had for his future might unfold in the same unpredictable, screwy, yet surprisingly perfect manner. Stranger things had happened.

RCJ


End file.
